Chapter 38 DAN #2
But Dom says nothing. Just stands there, his jaw tense, teeth grinding together as if he’s in deep thought. Probably doing the math in his head, as I am. Elio’s about my age, I’m sure of it. I remember Rose telling me her brother was much older.
My father—the man I respected, the man I trusted—had an affair. He had a son. He kept it a secret. And now, after all these years, I find out that the man I’ve spent half my life fighting, the man I nearly killed in this kitchen, is my fucking blood.
I killed Rose’s father. Believed, with every ounce of my being, that I was doing the right thing. That I was serving justice, taking out the bastard who sent men to murder my mother.
But Elio?
Elio never even had his blood in his veins.
Elio was never the son of the man I hated.
He was the son of the man I loved. The man I admired. The man I wanted to make proud.
My fucking father.
My head pounds. I brace myself against the counter, sucking in air as if I’ve been underwater for too long.
“Dan—”
I drag a hand down my face, trying to force the world back into focus. My pulse is hammering, my lungs tight like I can’t take in enough air. But I can’t walk away.
Not from Dom.
I glance at him, expecting him to be just as wrecked, but he’s standing stiffly, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw locked tight.
He’s pissed.
Not the usual Dom kind of pissed, the type that comes with an easy smirk and a snide comment. No, this is deeper. It’s sitting in the lines around his mouth, in the way his fingers dig into his own biceps like he’s trying to anchor himself.
I exhale sharply. “Say something.”
Dom snorts. “What the fuck do you want me to say?”
“I don’t fucking know.”
We stand there, the truth sitting between us like a loaded gun on the table, waiting for someone to pick it up.
Dom and I have spent years hating Elio, thinking he was born from the same evil we were fighting against.
Turns out he came from the same man who raised us.
Dom finally looks at me, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Do you think he knew?”
I feel my stomach twist. “Dad?”
Dom nods. “Do you think he knew Elio was his?”
My gut churns. “I don’t know.”
Dom’s jaw works like he’s chewing on something bitter. He paces the kitchen. “He should’ve told us.”
“Yeah, well, so should she.” I turn to Rose’s mother, the accusation clear in my tone, but I try to keep my emotions controlled. On the outside at least, because my son is sitting beside Lucia at the table, still as a rabbit caught in the crossfire.
She swallows, looking down at her hands in her lap. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid?” My voice is razor sharp. “You let us hate each other. You let me—” I stop myself, clenching my fists.
She looks up, her eyes glossy with guilt. “It’s my fault.” Her voice shakes. “All of it. Your mother’s death. I’ve lived with the guilt of it all these years.” She takes a deep inhale on her oxygen. “If you can call my existence living.”
The room goes so silent, I swear I hear my heart beating.
She grips the blanket on her lap like she’s trying to hold herself together. “My husband found out about the affair. He—” Her throat bobs, and she exhales, slow and shaky. “He wasn’t a good man. Your father was my only comfort.”
The weight of it presses down on all of us.
For years, I thought I was avenging my mother’s death. Thought I was putting down a monster. Thought I was right.
But now, standing here, I realise—I was just another player in a game that started long before I was even born.
A door slams at the front of the house. Elio’s heavy footsteps grow louder, but I don’t turn around. I keep my gaze locked on the woman who started all of this.
Elio storms into the kitchen, his face a mask of barely contained fury. His hands are shaking with the weight of betrayal.
Elio shakes his head, like he’s seeing me for the first time. Like he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with this revelation either.
He exhales sharply, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I don’t know what the fuck this means. And I don’t give a shit about what should’ve happened. But know this—” He looks between me and Dom. “We might share blood, but we’re not brothers.”
A bitter snarl tugs at Dom’s lips. “You think we want to be your brother?”
He scoffs. “Good. Then we agree on something.”
“Regardless of this new information. You and I are tied together through Rose. She will be my wife as soon as she’s out of the hospital.
” I don’t know if I’ll ever look at Elio and not see the man I thought was my enemy.
I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive my father for keeping this from us.
But one thing is certain, I’m stuck with him and this family regardless of blood and I have to make this work for the woman I love.
“So, what do we do now? Play happy families? Thursday game nights?” He snarls at the two of us.
I check the time on my watch. “Right now, I’m going to the hospital to sit with my future wife before I go under the knife. And when I come back, we’ll figure this shit out.” My lips lift in the corner. “I prefer Monday nights for game night.”
I take the few steps to Angelos and hold out my arm. “Want to come and sit with your mum for a bit?” I need to get out of here. Need something to calm the chaos in my head.
Angelos nods and rises from the chair.
I look back at Dom and Elio. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”
Dom chuckles, shaking his head.
Lucia watches me leave with a solemn expression, but a faint hint of hope in her eyes.
“D’Angelo,” Elio calls. He throws me the keys to his car. “Take the Maserati.”
I catch the keys. “You haven’t fucked with the brakes, have you?”
“You have my word. I’ll cooperate for now. Just bring my sister back to us.”
I nod, gripping the keys as I step out of the house, Angelos at my side.
The weight in my chest doesn’t lift, but for the first time since this conversation started, I have something solid to hold on to—Rose and my son.
They’re my anchor in this mess, the only thing that makes sense in a world that’s just been flipped upside down.
Rose is the glue that holds all of this together, the only reason any of us are even trying.
I throw the Maserati into gear, the engine purring like a damn tiger. Beside me, Angelos sinks low into the passenger seat, his arms crossed tight across his chest.
“Well,” I say, tapping the wheel, “at least if the brakes give out, we’ll crash in style.”
Angelos snorts a tiny puff of air, almost a laugh.
I’ll take it. “Who knew Elio had a car that matched his personality?” I mutter, flicking on the indicator.
Angelos glances over. “What do you mean?”
I grin with a shrug. “Loud. Expensive. Unreliable.”
Angelos lets out a choked laugh.
I laugh along with him. “Probably breaks down once a month, costs a fortune to fix, and still thinks it’s God’s gift.”
Angelos shakes his head, a genuine smile pulling at his mouth. “Uncle Elio’s all right. He has a Ferrari too, you know?”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” I turn onto the main road. “My Audi’s better, though, right?”
Angelos furrows his brow. “Bruh, there’s no comparison.”
I can’t help the grin tugging at my mouth. “Bruh,” I echo, shooting him a look.
The tension’s still thick, but it’s cracked now. Just enough for me to slide a few words through it.
“You okay?”
He shrugs, staring out the window. “Nonna said my grandfather wasn’t a nice man.”
My arms tense, straightening out in front of me as I clutch the steering wheel.
“Is that why you killed him?” He doesn’t look at me, just stares out the window at the bustling city streets as I pull up to a red light.
“He hurt your mother.” I swallow the thick air, knowing that was the final nail in her old man’s coffin. I often wonder, if he’d been a loving father to Rose, would I have aborted the mission?
“Is that why you wanted to kill Da—I mean, Magnus?”
“Yes, son. You know I loved your mum more than anything. That was until I found out about you a few weeks ago. Now you’re both my number one priority.” I press my foot gently on the accelerator as the light changes to green.
Angelos doesn’t look at me, but his knee bounces.
“I may not have been around, but I’m not going anywhere now. I promise you that.”
The Maserati glides along the road, the hum of the engine filling the silence between us. Angelos fiddles with the hem of his sleeve, staring out the window like the city might offer him an escape.
A few beats of silence pass before he mutters, so low I almost miss it, “It’s all my fault.”
My grip tightens on the wheel. “What is?”
He swallows, voice thick. “Mum… getting shot. I screwed up…” His voice cracks, and he shakes his head, jaw clenching. “I should have aimed the gun at him.”
“Hey.” I reach over, squeezing his shoulder, firm but careful. “None of this is on you, Angelos. You hear me? Not one fucking bit.”
He doesn’t answer, but his shoulders shake once, a quick, fierce tremor, like he’s holding back everything inside him.
I keep my hand there a second longer before pulling back.
“I don’t want you carrying this guilt or this hate around with you. I’m your dad. It’s my job to take care of you now. You and your mum and I’ll take care of that evil bastard too, don’t you worry.”
Angelos nods and wipes at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, pretending like he’s just itchy.
“She’ll be all right, won’t she, Da—Dan?”
My heart stutters, the steering wheel twitching in my hand as I thought he was about to call me dad. I let out a sigh. Baby steps. We’re making progress every day.
“Your mother’s a warrior, son. She’ll pull through.”
We don’t say anything else the rest of the ride.
We don’t need to.
I was only Angelos’ age when my mother was murdered, when my universe was ripped apart. I’ll be damned if my son goes through the same thing. Rose’s survival is all that matters now. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he has his mother.
I’ll bring her home. Even if it kills me.